


Pledge

by Laerkstrein



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: F/M, Gen, Salikawood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 04:30:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laerkstrein/pseuds/Laerkstrein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Rabanastre wasn't waiting for them at the end?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pledge

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://niger-ut-niveus.livejournal.com/81704.html) on my LJ comm on 03.02.12.

The air smelled of ashes, the remnants of the felled creatures now spread across the kindling of camp, cinders bursting to life with flame. It was like a cage in this part of the wood, built up and around the plantlife, securing the area. The solid flooring beneath them was held up only by the branches of massive trees.  
  
Why someone would come here, to the Salikawood, and build such a thing, she had no idea. Perhaps they'd intended to start a village.  
  
Though the daylight hours were long over, there was no true darkness hanging over them. The fire, tended to by Basch, was letting off smoke with the scent of their dinner, its light flashing across the green leaves and bursting blooms.   
  
What would it be like to live here? To remain in a place so beautiful and untouched, gaining a sense of harmony with the trees? The cities were always overrun with trouble and uncertainty, but here, one could always expect to live freely, should they survive the beasts.  
  
"Hey, Penelo. C'mon. Time to eat."  
  
She didn't move from her seat, allowing her legs to hang over the hole in the wood where the Bombs had gone off. The tarp she used for a blanket was pulled tighter around her shoulders so as to ward off the gentle wind that whistled through the air.  
  
"We're a long way from home, aren't we?"  
  
His boots clacked against the boards, hand coming to rest on her arm. "Probably."  
  
"How far do you think?"  
  
Vaan shrugged, hair bouncing around his face. "I dunno. I'd say... three days at least. Maybe a few more."   
  
"What about Archades?"  
  
He sat down beside her, eyes curious. "Well, Balthier thinks that, if we keep up this pace, we'll be there in another six days or so. Why're you asking all these questions, all of a sudden, Pen? Something wrong?"  
  
Yes, also no. It wasn't so much about missing Rabanastre as it was the fear. Fear that, were the events of Ivalice to continue with war and bloodshed, when it finally came time to return home, there wouldn't be a city waiting for them.   
  
Penelo turned away from him, knees pulled to her chest beneath the tarp, forehead falling upon them.   
  
"I'm afraid, Vaan..."  
  
It wasn't likely, but it certainly wasn't impossible. Not with what they've learned of the new Consul. Such a kind man, he'd seemed, but one who held enormous power, within both the tactics of war and in people's hearts. Too easily was he trusted, it seemed. She didn't want to return to a ruin, to what the Fortress at Nalbina had become, where the faces of Rabanastre were coated in ash and blood.   
  
The fire in the camp behind her crackled loudly, Vaan's face there as she looked up. He was kneeling before her, both her hands in his own.  
  
"That's not gonna happen. You'll see," he said. "We're gonna take down the Empire, Pen. Beat it back, and make sure they know that they can't push us all around." He bowed his head a moment, then turned to look at the others in the camp. "They won't take anyone else away from me... From us.  _Any of us._  Okay?"  
  
Penelo nodded, allowing Vaan to pull her to her feet and lead her to fire's warm glow. A glow which burned as brightly as their hearts.


End file.
